Picture Perfect

Fans.

Screaming fans were running toward the very store we left Niall, Harry and Louis in. Oh god no; this was bad. “Zayn, we have to go, now. Call Liam and tell him to head back to the hotel inconspicuously. You go, too. Get Paul.” As he nodded and scurried off, phone at hand, I managed to answer my own ringing phone. “Louis, Louis, Louis. I see it. I’m coming. Tell them to let me in.”

“Help soon, please. We’re stuck in here and there is no back entrance or anything!”

“And there’s no food here!” Leave it to Niall to be worried about food in a situation such as this one.

“Okay! I’m going to start pushing through the crowd now. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Parker! You’ll need it.” With that, I ended the call, putting my phone back into the pocket at the front of my sundress. The screaming intensified as I progressed through the crowd, as did the pushing.

My pleads of ‘excuse me please, coming through’ were inaudible over the loud screams of the girls in the crowd. As I neared the entrance of the store, I was instantaneously pushed back by girls who assumed I was just another fan. From the lack of space, I could feel my camera being pressed up against my body.

“You think you’re going to get to the front for just a glimpse of my boys? Forget about it. I bet you’re just a directionator,” a nasally voice from in front of me screamed over the crowd as she turned around to face me.

“Cute how you think I’m a fan,” the annoyance in my voice was obvious. “I’m actually with the band, so could you please let me through?”

“You expect me to believe you?! As if...” She scoffed, as if she was a big shot. The brat was acting like the girls I hated - prissy and fangirlish. “If ‘I’m with the band' means ‘I’m here to fuck their brains out’, join the line.”

“First off, that is beyond disgusting. Please get your mind out of the gutter. Second, I don’t really care if you don’t believe me. I can easily call one of the boys and ask to be escorted inside. Thirdly, you really should be nicer. The guys don’t really like bitchy fans,” I threw her a sarcastic smile. No wonder the trio was content with staying inside (apart from Niall being hungry) - the fans were cruel to other fans and were absolutely relentless. I pulled out my phone out of the pocket and dialed Harry’s all too familiar number. “Hey, Harry, I can’t get through!”

I heard a sigh come from the other end of the line. “I’ll come get you.”

“No, no, no! Harry, stay in there. I’ll just call Paul to come get us in the van.”

I heard incoherent mumbles coming from the other end of the line. “Hey, hold on, we’re going to get one of the employees to come get you. Just jump up and down when the door opens.” Right on cue, the door opened and the crowd tightened; my camera still digging into my side. Screams of false hope rang in the air.

Much to my dismay, the crowd had tightened so much that I couldn’t wriggle my way to jump up at least once. “Harry I really can’t jump - the crowd is way too tight!”

“Push your way through, then.”

“And bring food with you, pretty please.”

“I can’t! They just think I’m another fan. Niall, I’m in a crowd of fangirls; where can I get food for you?!”

The nasally voiced girl from earlier looked at me. “Pretending to call the boys to have us let you through? That’s pathetic.”

“Lying is pathetic and I don’t like lying nor doing pathetic deeds. Therefore your acusation is pathetic.”

“What?” Harry asked, a bit of shock to his voice.

“No, not you, Haz.”

“I’ll distract them,” Louis called from the background.

“Louis get away from the window; the fans are going to go ape shit!” I screamed, a bit too loud, causing the fans to look toward the window on the second floor of the store.

Screams.

God awful screams.

The crowd became less tight as the fans stood on their tiptoes in order to catch the slightest of glimpses of Louis. I easily slid out of the crowd and charged toward the entrance. All was fine until I found myself stuck as a result of my camera being compressed between two girls. The crowd shifted and my camera was being crushed by the two girls that were standing too close for my liking. Fuck, no. My camera was being crushed. Fuck. My favorite camera, too.

“Hey can you please move,” I asked the two girls who were killing my camera, but it was too late. As the crowd became less tight, again, my camera fell to the ground in six different pieces.

Different pieces.

Sprawled on the ground.

My favorite camera.

“Uhm, I’m so sorry!” the girl on the right exclaimed, but I was fully aware she didn’t mean it sincerely. She picked up the pieces of the camera and handed them to me. I immediately looked for my memory card. Thankfully, it was still in one piece; a little tarnished, though. I just hoped the pictures weren’t ruined. I took it and walked to the door while Louis took a video - one which was probably going to end up on Twitter.

“Fuck!” I yelled with agonizing pain.

My favorite camera.

Gone.